Avondale V
Page 3
Another rumble of surprise and anger swept through the crowd of officers.
“Maybe there will be time to search out the meaning of all these strange events,” Rafe continued. “But not now. At this moment, our first and highest priority is to ensure that we are ready to protect this city against whatever forces come against it.”
“You really think the king will attack?” someone shouted.
“I do,” Rafe said solemnly. “I think we may be facing the most difficult fight of our lives, but I sincerely believe that we are more than a match for the king’s army or any army who might come against us. Avondale is a strong city, a mighty fortress. We will stand firm behind these walls and stop anyone who tries to tear them down.”
There was a cheer, and Rafe’s inner smile reached his eyes, but not his mouth. He refused to let the men know how relieved he was to find them willing to follow him.
“I want every able-bodied man ready to do his duty as of this morning,” Rafe said in a commanding voice. “I want doubters and cowards dealt with in a decisive manner. This is not a drill; it is not about political posturing. This is about the survival of the people we love and the city that is our home. Gentlemen, prepare your men. We are on high alert. I want the watch tower manned at all times. I want siege rations and supplies distributed all along the walls. And I want the palace secured at all times. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes sir!” the officers shouted.
“All right then,” Rafe said. “Senior officers will report to the earl’s war room in one hour. Until then, see to your men and your arms. Dismissed.”
The ranks of officers broke up in a flurry of activity. Rafe felt a pang of grief as he watched the men hurrying away. He couldn’t help but think of his father. Grentz, the sword master of Avondale, should have been commanding the earl’s war band. But Grentz was dead, and Rafe had watched his father die, powerless to stop it. He wouldn’t be commanding the earl’s war band if his father had lived, and Rafe’s pride quickly turned to guilt. He had grown up imagining what it would be like to lead the earl’s war band into battle. It was his dream to follow in his father’s footsteps and become the earl’s commander, but now he only felt guilty knowing that he wouldn’t be there if his father hadn’t died. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he felt as if his dream had cost his father his life.
Rafe trudged back toward the palace, doing his best to keep his head up and not look as glum as he felt. He didn’t hear Olyva approaching from behind him. She didn’t speak, she just took his hand and walked quietly beside him. When he looked at her, he could see the compassion and tenderness in his eyes. It was almost as if she knew what he was feeling without him even saying a word.
They went back into the palace, past the small clumps of city officials who were whispering about the events of the past few days. Since Rafe’s banishment, the city had been in almost constant upheaval, and Rafe felt as if that were his fault, as well. He didn’t regret telling Leonosis about his love for Olyva or about being banished. Rafe and Olyva had truly found themselves on the vast plains below Avondale’s mountain top sanctuary. In the wild, open places of the blighted lands, Rafe had faced his first real enemies. He had learned so much about himself, and he knew he was up to the challenge of commanding the earl’s war band. He was also more patient, more strategic than he had been before. He understood that leadership took more than just rushing blindly into the fray and he was thankful for that maturity, but he still felt as though things had fallen apart because he had chosen to love Olyva even though she was above his station and betrothed to Brutas.
Rafe led Olyva through the palace, not really paying attention to where he was going. She seemed content just to be near him, and he suddenly found himself in front of the small apartment that had belonged to his father.
“I don’t think I can go in there just yet,” he said.
“We don’t have to,” Olyva replied.
“I need to meet with the earl,” Rafe said.
“Okay, I’ll go with you.”
This time she led the way, and Rafe let himself be led along as he fought down his grief. He wanted to weep and find a place where he wouldn’t be bothered. He wanted to hide his pain, yet it refused to be contained.
“I’m going to have to make a trip down the mountain,” Olyva told Rafe. “I need to find a safe way down in case we have to leave the city.”
“By yourself?” Rafe asked.
“I hope not,” Olyva said. “I'm thinking of asking Desyra to go with me.”
"Won't you need protection?"
"I need your trust, Rafe. I can take of myself. Can you trust me to do the task Earl Ageus asked me to do?”
“I can,” he said. “Of course I can. I’m sorry for being so befuddled lately. I just can’t seem to keep my head out of the clouds.”
“Your father died, Rafe. I know what that feels like.”
“You do? I mean, I know you do, but you seem so strong.”
“I had you and time to rest, remember.”
“Yes, but you never really even cried about it.”
“Oh, I cried, just not in front of you. I loved my father, but I said goodbye to him when I first came to Avondale.”
“I wasn’t close to Grentz,” Rafe explained. “Not the way you would think. I loved him, I wanted to be him, but I never really felt like he approved of me until we came back to Avondale. I really thought things were going to be different, and now it’s as if someone stole him from me and I can’t get him back.”
“You have to hold on to his love for you,” she said. “That’s what's important. He had a chance to show you that love before he died. And that’s something no one can ever take away from you.”
“Yes, but I still wish we could have had more time together.”
“I wish that, too.”
Rafe’s eyes were watering with tears, and he looked down so that she wouldn’t see them. Her feet were hidden under her dress, but Rafe knew they were bare. He couldn’t see the long, root-like toes or the patches of brown, scaly skin that looked like tree bark, and yet just knowing that they were there reminded him of what an incredible woman Olyva had become. He loved her now more than ever, and she seemed stronger to him than he’d ever imagined she could be. He had fallen in love with her and had always imagined himself being her protector. Now she was protecting him, and he realized that what he really wanted was to partner with her and face whatever adventures came their way together.
“I want to get married,” he said.
She looked at him in surprise, and he smiled.
“I don’t see why we shouldn’t,” he said. “Nothing fancy, just a small ceremony. Your family is here. And there’s no telling what may happen in the days ahead. We may not even survive, but if I die, I want to die as your husband.”
Rafe was tall, and Olyva was now equally as tall, so she didn’t have to look up to kiss him. She wrapped her long arms around his shoulders and kissed him passionately. He pulled her close, feeling her slim waist with his hands. When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes.
“Do you really mean it?” she asked.
“With all my heart.”
“Then I accept.”
It was the first ray of happiness Rafe had felt since watching his father die. And he realized it was just what they needed. Despite what they might have to do in the days ahead of them, they could treasure the happiness of being husband and wife for a little while anyway.
Chapter 5
Tiberius
In the gloom of the mists, all they could do was wait and listen. The dragon’s wings flapped above them, and every soul onboard the war ship was tense, waiting to see if they would live or die. Tiberius hated the waiting even more than the pitched battle. He felt helpless and regretted having ordered the captain to lower the ship. But after a few moments, the sounds of the dragon’s wings faded. A few moments more, and everyone began to relax a little.
“What do we do now?” Lexi
asked.
“We were going to have to drop below the mists as some point,” Tiberius explained. “I guess now is as good a time as any.”
“You think the dragon’s gone?”
“I’m hoping it is.”
“And what if it spots us under the mists?”
“I don’t know, Lexi. But we never saw a dragon when we were in the blighted lands. Maybe they don’t go below the mists.”
Dancer trilled sadly, and Lexi gave Tiberius a knowing look that said she thought his theory was rubbish. Still, Tiberius had time to recover his strength and he spent the respite from battle formulating a new plan.
Fire didn’t harm the beast, that much was clear, and that meant that the catapult on the war ship and the firebombs it shot wouldn’t help them. The war ship’s long, pointed prow could destroy the largest sky ship in Valana, but even if they could ram the dragon with their ship, the beast would pull the ship out of the sky. Tiberius needed another method, a better way to fend off the beast or kill it outright.
There was a strange noise from below the ship, and several of the soldiers looked over the railing. Lexi was looking, too, leaning out over the edge, and Tiberius was just about to warn her that she was leaning too far. Then something huge hit the ship from below. The stout wooden hull shook violently, and two men flipped over the rail, just barely managing to hang on. The other soldiers ran to their aid, pulling the men up, but Tiberius was frozen in panic. Lexi had fallen, too, only she hadn’t caught herself like the soldiers. She was just gone.
He raced to the edge of the ship where she had been standing, his mouth open in a terrible scream of panic that wouldn’t come. His body was wracked with pain, mostly from the spasm in his back, but he ignored the pain completely. He leaned out, trying to see where Lexi had fallen, but there was nothing but gray mist all around them.
“No,” he finally managed to say. “Lexi!”
There was a roar from the beneath the ship, and Tiberius felt as if he were dying. He was powerless to help Lexi, the person he cared about more than anyone else in the world. The captain was barking orders, but Tiberius didn’t hear them. He just stood frozen at the ship’s railing, his body rigid, his heart pounding in disbelief.
Then the mists disappeared, and the bright, amber-colored sunlight lit up the war ship. The lush plain far below came suddenly into sight. And not far away, the dragon was reeling through the air. It spun awkwardly, its once-graceful flight now clumsy and weak. It was quickly losing altitude, and Tiberius strained to see what was happening.
“Ultimus Conspectus,” he shouted.
Suddenly his vision zoomed forward, and he could see every detail about the dragon. The scales on the beast’s back were glossy and large, overlapping like clay tiles on a rooftop. The wings were leathery and lined with thick veins. Tiberius could even see the blood pouring from a wound on the beast’s neck. But none of these revelations held his attention. Instead, he stared almost dumbfounded at the sight of Lexi on the dragon’s back. She had one arm wrapped around the beast’s massive neck, and both legs were gripping the dragon’s back tightly. With her free hand, she was stabbing the dragon with her Wangorian dagger.
The dragon was writhing, trying to simultaneously to buck her off its back and swipe her off with its tail. The men were pointing and shouting in confusion, but only Tiberius could really see what was happening. Dancer was still clinging desperately to Lexi’s shoulder, and the woman he loved was fighting tooth and nail against a living, breathing dragon.
“Dive!” he shouted. “We have to get down there.”
“Don’t be a fool!” the captain argued. “We should fly back up while we have the chance.”
“Lexi’s down there.” Tiberius pointed toward the dragon. “We’re going to help her.”
The captain cursed but he sent the war ship into a steep dive. Tiberius had to hold on to the railing, straining his back to keep his feet as the ship dropped toward the dragon, which was alternating between fighting off Lexi’s savage attack and keeping itself in the air.
“If we ram the devil, we’re all doomed,” the captain warned Tiberius.
“I don’t want to ram it—I want us to fly under it.”
“You’re mad!”
“Maybe, but you’ll do it, or I’ll feed you to the dragon myself,” Tiberius warned him.
The look on the captain’s face was sheer hatred, and Tiberius felt a pang of guilt for threatening the man, but he was ready to keep the threat if anything happened to Lexi. Tiberius turned his attention back to the dragon, who seemed oblivious to their approach.
“Go faster!” Tiberius shouted.
“I can’t make the wind blow any harder,” the captain growled.
“Well, I can,” the wizard said angrily, ignoring the searing pain in his back and the suffocating fear that was making it so hard to breathe. “Flabra!”
The portal to the magical world burst open, and a gale-like wind suddenly filled the war ship’s sails. The dragon was struggling to gain altitude, its wings flapping hard, but moving much more slowly than before. It threw its head back and spewed flames, which boiled out of its mouth and then back down the length of its body.
For one horrifying second, Tiberius imagined Lexi being burned alive. Then he sent out his shielding spell. Holding the magic at such a distance strained his body and mind like nothing he’d ever experienced. His stomach convulsed at the effort, and his muscles cramped from his legs to this shoulders. Everything in him screamed for relief, but Tiberius refused, even as his heart hammered in his chest like a smithy pounding hot iron with a heavy hammer.
The flames passed over Lexi, and Tiberius could feel the heat flowing around his invisible shield. Unfortunately, the flames covered Lexi, and Tiberius couldn’t see if his spell was keeping her safe. His eyes were watering from holding the spell in place as the dragon struggled to fly upward. When the flames finally parted, Tiberius could see Lexi holding on to the hilt of her dagger with both hands. She wasn’t burned, but she was in danger of falling off the dragon as it flew straight up into the air.
“Hold on!” Tiberius shouted, once his spell was finished and he could breathe again.
The war ship was finally closing in on the dragon, which was turning slowly in the air; its body seemed to swim through the air like a sea serpent. Tiberius was weak, his legs shaking beneath him, but he summoned more wind, pushing the war ship further down and under the dragon.
“Lexi!” Tiberius shouted again.
He lost sight of Lexi and Dancer as the war ship’s massive balloon sail moved between him and the dragon. For a long moment on the war ship, no one moved. Tiberius didn’t know what to expect, until he felt the ship jolt slightly. The soldiers looked toward the captain, who was frowning angrily. Then the dragon reappeared, behind them. It was flying away; the jerky, spasmodic movements of the wounded beast made it seem almost comedic, but all Tiberius could think of was the fact that Lexi was no longer on the dragon’s back.
The soldiers cheered as the dragon flew away, but Tiberius looked up. The balloon sail was covered with a thick net of heavy ropes. He waited, terrified until he saw Lexi. She was as agile as the most experienced sailor climbing down the sloping ropes. It was like the rigging of the ship was a ladder, and she had no trouble scurrying down toward the deck.
Tears streamed down Ti’s face. He didn’t even try to hide his relief. He limped toward the ropes that Lexi was climbing down, his back so stiff he was hunched to one side, and his back was wet with sweat. The soldiers began cheering for Lexi, all but the ship’s captain, who seemed bitter that Lexi had survived. They gathered around Tiberius, and when Lexi was low enough, they reached up with strong hands to pull her down onto the war ship’s deck.
“Well, that was exciting,” Lexi said breathlessly.
The men cheered her, and Tiberius pulled her into a painful embrace. Dancer ran around Lexi’s shoulder and then across Ti’s neck, before settling on Lexi’s back again.
“What were you thinking?” he asked.
“I wasn’t thinking,” she said. “I fell, and the dragon was beneath us. I was just trying to survive.”
“I was terrified that I would lose you,” Tiberius said.
“Not as terrified as I was.”
“You didn’t look scared. You looked fearless.”
“I was only doing what I had to do.”
“No, any normal person would have fallen. They wouldn’t have even thought to fight back.”
“The dragon was trying to knock me off its back,” she said. “I used the dagger because it was the only way to keep from falling.”
“May I see the dagger?” asked one of the soldiers.
Lexi held it out. The soldier stepped forward, dabbed a finger in the thick dragon blood, and then sucked it off his skin.
“What are you doing?” Lexi asked.
“Gaining the boldness of the dragon, my lady,” said the soldier.
The others were laughing, but they too wanted to taste the blood of the dragon. Some smeared the blood across their foreheads, and others rubbed it under their eyes. When Tiberius looked at the captain, the old man spat as if the entire scene disgusted him.
Tiberius dipped his finger in the blood and looked at Lexi. She ran her finger across the blade and held it up to him. The blood was dark red and almost shimmered in the amber-colored sunlight. Tiberius held his finger up to Lexi, and they both licked the blood off the other’s finger. It tasted like copper at first, almost like he’d stuck an old coin into his mouth, but then the taste changed just before he swallowed. It became sweet, and there was a part of him that wanted more. He looked longly after the dragon, which was merely a dark speck far away by then.
“What is it?” Lexi asked.
“I don’t know,” Tiberius said. “Probably nothing.”
“Your face,” she said. “It looked like you were thinking something.”
“I was just wondering how you could be so courageous,” he said.
“I just couldn’t stand the thought of not being with you.”